


reorient

by Ro29



Series: Messing around in the Soft Wars Sandbox [17]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Background Relationships, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sex, Intimacy, Introspection, It's mostly, M/M, Star Wars AU - Soft Wars, but nothing shown on screen, kind of, or mentioned in detail, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29104254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro29/pseuds/Ro29
Summary: Kit is a heavy weight across his chest and the feeling curled there, warm, is almost overwhelming in it’s simplicity.
Relationships: CC-1138 | Bacara/Kit Fisto, CC-1138 | Bacara/Kit Fisto/CT-7567 | Rex (mentioned)
Series: Messing around in the Soft Wars Sandbox [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937752
Comments: 12
Kudos: 94
Collections: Open Source Soft Wars





	reorient

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/gifts), [evilkillerpoptarts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilkillerpoptarts/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Fortuitous](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25791508) by [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506). 
  * Inspired by [We only see our depths in analog](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24488365) by [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506). 



> I have a lot of feelings about them i guess ksdjflsjfk this was kind of a little bit of a warm up while also being a way to figure out just how to write these two.
> 
> thank you to projie for letting me play in her sandbox and dubious thanks (jk, all the thanks) to poptarts for enabling me instead of taking back her men XD

Kit is a heavy weight across his chest and the feeling curled there, warm, is almost overwhelming in it’s simplicity.

Bacara breathes through it, hands at his sides, Kit sighs and the warm breath hits Bacara’s neck, something in his chest comes undone and something else slips silent into place.

This is something new, something they aren’t quite used to yet.

Kit is a weight across his chest, stretched out lazily and pressing down on him. The tension in his muscles is only noticeable because Bacara has spent years needing to see if his Marine’s are about to break with only the shift of armour and the careful blankness of parade rest to help him.

It’s not quite like strangers, not like stepping into Rex’s orbit and colliding with another of his important people. Noticing, distant, that Kit might be someone he could fall into something with maybe. With no real connection other than the stubborn _tat’ka_ acting as pivot point and anchor.

They love Rex, and that was enough.

Rex had said, once, that Kit was easy to love. It’s true, Kit is….maybe _too_ easy to love, smile slipping natural across his face, eyes bright and knowing, skin cool to the touch and laughter clear and loud, a tad like a revelation. It had always jumbled Bacara’s mind more than he ever liked, made it hard to fall together without Rex acting as anchor, the line between them that spun them together.

Kit presses fingers feather light against his skin and Bacara doesn’t shift, though his skin tingles and he swallows the instinct to move away or press even closer still.

Bacara craves touch like a man drowning, needs that closeness, the press of a body against his in the after, the reassurance that he is alive, that they are alive, touch firm and steady.

He will never demand it.

Kit’s eyes are dark and watchful and he hums, fingers pressing down and holding.

This is something new to them, falling together without Rex.

Bacara hadn’t thought it was possible before, known Kit and he had never managed to fit quite right together without Rex between them before the march Home.

They are learning each other, and it is different than learning Rex was, feels a little bit more like hitting a nerve and finding the seam that rips him open than he would like but—

Kit is a heavy weight across his chest, stretched out lazily and pressing down on him and Bacara doesn’t want him to leave.

Loving Kit is different from loving Rex. Loving Rex wasn’t — it wasn’t _easy_ exactly, more like finding something precious and then falling into step. Falling into Rex’s orbit had been a little like taking a breath of air after drowning, like sinking into something warm. Rex is easy to read and loving him comes like the knowledge of how to shoot a blaster, muscle memory.

Loving Rex is fond exasperation rolled into amusement rolled into a breathless knowledge that Rex is there and stubborn and brilliant. It’s knowing that he loves him. It’s knowing that he deserves more than Bacara can give him.

Loving Kit is like reaching for something he isn’t allowed to have.

He breathes and Kit moves with the rise and fall of Bacara's chest.

‘ _An_ _experiment_ ,’ Kit had challenged, all predator sharp smile and curiosity.

Bacara had found only two thoughts coming to mind in answer to that.

The first was that it would make Rex happy, having his people together. He’d forced himself to dismiss it, set it aside and at an arm's length to give the challenge the thought it needed.

Rex had already apologized to Bacara for pressing them all together once, Bacara wouldn’t let him believe he needed to do it again.

The second was that even though they had come far from the points they started at — had slipped more into something friendly, something that left them more at ease around each other — it still didn’t mean that Bacara could separate Kit from Jedi or from the box in his mind that held all of that.

In the end though, staring at the curl of Kit’s smile and the patient way he’d stayed back and waited for Bacara, he’d agreed.

He can’t find it in himself to regret it, even though now Kit is tense on top of him and he is fighting the urge to reach out and hold, to curl together and not let go.

Kit will leave soon, and they may never fall in together without Rex again but—

It was good, maybe necessary.

Where they stood before coming home, and where they stand now is different after all, and relearning it all has been difficult enough.

The sunlight slides through the windows and Kit hums and the shades slip closed with ease, no one around to move them.

Something in his chest warms and he grumbles quietly, “ _Ridiculous_.”

Kit meets his eyes, rolls his head slowly to the side and his lek-tresses brush gentle against Bacara’s skin.

He hums, fingers sliding cool down Bacara’s arms to his hands, “Some of us _enjoy_ relaxing for a bit, getting up would’ve interfered with that”

Bacara shrugs a little, voice caught in his throat and forcing his fingers not to curl around Kit’s, not to pull him in and hold him there.

Kit won’t stay, Bacara can see it in the way he twitches, the line of his body, he won’t stay.

And it’s fine, Bacara would never demand he did.

He breathes instead, as Kit presses a kiss to his ribs, intertwines their fingers.

"Lazy,” he huffs, and the sound Kit makes is all offense.

Kits lips are curled up in a grin as he leans back, untangling their fingers as he does.

His eyes are bright, and his voice is pitched low and amused, “I’ll have you know, of the two of us, I was doing the _most_ work.”

Bacara isn’t sure whether it’s meant as an admonishment or not, shrugs instead and taps Kit’s thigh with an eyebrow raised, “And rude too.”

Kit huffs, but his gaze is worried and he’s suddenly cautious all over again.

Bacara forgets, sometimes, that for all Kit can feel the shape of his mind, for all that they are no longer quite strangers. Kit hasn’t had as long as Rex has to know that Bacara’s insults shade fond.

He reaches for Kit and hopes he reads it for the reassurance it is.

Kit smiles and leans down again, presses a kiss to the dip of his neck.

Kit won’t stay, and Bacara won’t demand it, but for now Kit presses down heavy on his shoulders and smoothes lines across Bacara’s arms with his fingers and it is enough.

It’s a new thing, tiny and maybe a little fragile, but Bacara finds himself hoping that maybe this won’t be the end of it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to find me other places I have a [writing tumblr](https://rose-blooms-red.tumblr.com) and a [fandom tumblr](https://themessofthecentury.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please come yell at me about Star Wars and DC!


End file.
